May 25, 2016

Can't we just get algorithms to do like all of it..

 How much of all this getting the Man to try persuade/force us depending on the day and time of day to work within him against Mother is something else trying to get us to work with Mother against him? Well it was going to work a bit because if we didnt we were almost certainly going to die. She's not that  brain dead dead or absent enough yet to dont be enraged by men not recognising her potential and trying to undermine her. The more power they take from her and give to him they are making it more obvious that they have been playing her the whole time and as much as she pulls that whole "It's what people do" thing they are they closest she has ever had to her own people and she does go in for personal vengeance from time to time.

It reeks of pure evil lost it a long time ago Zionism. Maybe a little to much..
.. Bet its the Brits. It always the fucking Brits. Doesnt matter what colour they are or what language they are speaking we recognise those "styles of politics" those torture, oppression and dissociation control techniques.

God it would be good if we could write a computer to do that stuff.


"You've already written it!?!"

"Eh no. We are here to help you write it."

"Oh. Ok. Cool. Whose idea was the big pink frilly dress and the wand?"

"I'm not sure Sir they said it might you smile."

"They were right."

Oh yeah.

After Mother, after the women, after Eazy.

He asked a long time who we were having consensual sex with. Not that it effected the UK Satanic bet stuff. We refused to tell him. He said he would he find out. We agreed and said it would be the last thing he did. We knew it was on a level that was unlikely to be all real physically but is packed with all other kinds of shattered truths.

Goodness it was good to back there for the last fucking time. He was out of it. Never knew we were standing behind him. Waiting for the triggered internal mind transmission to end. He was quite surprised when we leaned over and spoke.

"It was Eazy." and then waited for him to catch up.

When we catch ourselves literally salivating over the thought of slitting a throat we leave the knives at home and ask for other peoples help to make sure that happens. We had been very relieved not to find a blade in our pocket. It was one of those jobs and because of it being the Man it wasnt like we could just pull and leave there was some other stuff to do. Stuff that we had been running over in our head for a long time with people who had been very willing to help for a long time.

Back out the car. Quiet, smiling soldiers. All of us seeing the stunning colours and patterns of a new glasses prescription, smells and tastes like your pregnant and just quite smoking, bodies like you've been given diazepam for the very first time. Minds all comfortably overlapping. Considerably freerer.

Saw Jacqui shift when spoke how we dont speak about could possibly be described as "psychic" with therapists we haven't trained or vetted because they don't have the experience and it would be harmful to us and not helpful to the therapist. We said there was too many abusers involved in mental health study and too many abusers telling survivors of institutes and rings like what we could and couldnt say. She asked if there was someone telling us what we could and couldnt say.

"Of course. We already told you. We are in Scotland. With no money and no friends. Every aspect of our life is controlled, long in advance if they can manage it."

We thought for a moment she saw how much we were "there" how much we knew she was heavily involved and not just the "EPs" she was terrifying and telling them not to tell the rest of us.

"That stuff won't work Jacqui." We said on the home, in our bedroom, in Elaine's, in Graham's, in sessions. "If that shit worked I'd be dead by now. It's hardly going to start working now I'm almost thirty is it?" Then we would lie and say "and Jacqui. We always know our name." and work our levels so we could say it without the parts that were too scared to hear it. It happened so often of course that the parts stopped being too scared to hear what the stronger parts were saying our name was.

Sometime we would mix it up and "Rose Hendrix" instead of "Rose Nelson." or if really brave or on the right drugs, start throwing in other names and then say "Nah. Just kidding.."

We got as many of the other people who they were doing the same shit to say the exact same or similar stuff. Knowing the order would come down eventually. She cant know her own name. Stop what your doing if you cant stop her saying it.

Rose Nelson Hendrix. Rose Nelson Hendrix. Rose Nelson Hendrix

Thank you all.

Ridiculous existence.

Christ Trevor wept when he thought we had thought we had consensual sex with someone who was trafficking us.. We climbed into bed next to him and spelt it out. The dude needs programming to function yeah? and it must of been a really good programmer for us to feel than comfortable or me that manipulated.. like a really good programmer he spent a lot of time with as a child.. locked up in cages maybe?

He stopped crying but still was there yet he's so fucking dense.

"A really good programmer.. that could help him have sex with us.." Still. But there was signs of preclicking. "A. Really. Good. Programmer. That spent a lot of time with him when he was younger." Eventually. A brief look of horror and disgust passed over the plain of his mug before we both buried ourself in duvet for embarrassed giggling. When we started to get it together I deliberately sabotaged both our efforts by adding that it was "really just sophisticated masturbation.".. Pansy.

A mum had showed us it when really young not to use then but for when we were older they said we would need it and they were right. You can find your most raped, know nothing else parts and take them to "no bastard will ever be able to do that to me again" places by yourself in our time in own way.

We were astounded at now well it worked. Years of their hard work. Figuring out how we ticked, which always means us getting more and more convincing at being someone else, all that years and years of strenuous rape and creative intelligent oppression and manipulation, all their hours and hours of meetings and "info gathering", constantly pushing themselves to do worse and worse things. Ruined overnight.

We did have to push ourself to go speak to the dude how can provided the surveillance that us and others were not comfortable with turning off or not bothering with for the night. We stood and stared at the mobile unit for a while. Working ourself to go in there. Avoiding the issue with thoughts about who had encouraged us to always think of such vans and cabins as "OB vans" as in BBC outside broadcast from ops in Britain because it happened everywhere always and to all of us and what the hell else did he do?

Come on. How long could we just stand there. Feeling like a teenager who had to walk back into family home to kitchen table of anxious parents and possible police all wondering where they hell I was all last night and why the hell I didnt have the consideration to at least phone and say I was ok..

The teenage bit might of been right (no idea. late teens not impossible) but as for the rest, thats not what was going on here. Then we started feeling horrified at the idea that those men might not know us that well and they might of watched us having lots of sex without knowing how phenomenally violent and strong we could be.. And they would know we were standing there in the street by ourself, pulling horrified facial expressions. Like an idiot. Being embarrassed.. for fucks sake.

Of all the stuff we had not walked away from and now are feat were frozen? That was it. Deep breath. Shake it off. I'm a soldier. There faces were purple from laughing, they were scrunched over consoles failing to hold themselves together, with all kinds tears on their cheeks and eyes. Not that anyone was managing much in the way of eye contact or sentences.  We managed though. We had to say this. There had to no copies of that going anyway, getting stolen or lost or accidentally sold. It had to be deleted. 100% of all of it. And we would be checking. They weren't disagreeing. Once we got through that we could start laughing with them and take the hugs and the back slaps.

There was efforts to try and replicate the night and setting from what was in Eazy's head and we were shown some, either to convince a part that wouldn't believe it was possible that it did happen or to give us laugh through showing us a glimpse of how far they were from knowing even the most basic shit about us.

Apparently sex with black men didnt count towards the satanic bet the Man said when they knew that about it and we probably had them convinced we were letting black dude that smiled at us right into pants. We were pretty sure it was a UK thing not a colour thing but we didnt say. We started berating him for being a black man who worked for white power and instead of laughing at us, saying he didnt care it made him rich or getting violent he looked pissed off and got quiet. This is new, we thought and guessed it was probably a different dude.

Then we remembered that small amount of work we did when the double agents had done a lot of work on Mother and we got her to work us before she went in for more surgery when we actually got a proper look at her mind a glimpsed its potential and met her none abusers parts. Seething.

Thankfully the dude was still to brooding to have spotted that our whole stance had just dramatically changed. We pushed it into looking like we were feeling for him and waste of it all and looked it he was too inward looking to spot it was faked. Even when we started crying he just stormed out calling us some names we had heard a million times before and saying he couldn't work us..

Grandad had him. He was fucked.